Author's Note - clearly I'm avoiding things, but we all get the benefit of me distracting myself with this story. It feels good and makes me happy to be writing again. Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I can't promise that the next chapter will have nearly such a short turn around, but here's something to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates! Enjoy the chapter!

PART SEVEN

Scarlett rode in silence, exhaustion and weariness even blotted out by numbness. She was leaving her now husband behind at the Yankee headquarters, and he would be hung at noon the next day. It seemed unreal to her. But the steady clip-clop of the horse's hooves lulled her almost to sleep even as she sat on the seat of the wagon, her head dipping down, her chin nearly resting on her chest, until she jerked awake as the soldier pulled the horse to a stop. He lifted her down from the wagon and helped her to the gate. She nodded to him as he left, holding on to the post for balance to steady herself enough to walk back up the path to the house. When she opened the door, she found both Mammy and Pittypat waiting for her, one with a thunderous expression on her face and an anxious and confused one on the other.

However, that thunder quickly abated as Mammy took in her weary form. With just one look at her, Scarlett was led her back to bed. The excursion had clearly been too much, and Scarlett could feel the fever rising higher and higher as tremors of chills passed through her body. The stairs seemed to stretch higher than Stone Mountain before her, and it was a Herculean effort to climb all the way to the second floor where her bedroom was located. Once inside the room, Mammy helped her out of her clothes and back into her nightgown, as chills made her clench her jaw followed by waves of heat that left her casting aside all covers to allow the cool air to wash over her. "Miss Scarlett, I done told you that you shouldn't go. You is too sick to be out traipsing around like that. I don't care what that man had to tell you, it wasn't worth you getting sicker than you already were," Mammy scolded.

Through chattering teeth, with the covers pulled around her as she trembled, Scarlett whispered her first words since saying her wedding vows to Rhett, "They're going to hang him… tomorrow." Her voice cracking at the effort. "So I married him."

Mammy eyebrows rose in shock and horror, "You married him?"

"It was the only way…" Her teeth chattered. "to inherit his money. It was the only way to save Tara." There was a resigned dullness in her eyes that even the brightness from the fever could not withstand. "I'll be married to Rhett even less time than I was married to Charlie." She collapsed against the pillow, too exhausted to even hold her head up anymore. "You know that I couldn't give up Tara without one last fight, and he pr..promised me that he'd save it. He said there was no other way."

Mammy pulled up the chair beside her and took out a cloth and began wiping her brow. "I'll be praying, Miss Scarlett. The Good Lord might still want to save that Rapscallion's life after all. Might want to turn that charm into something the Lord can use. No sense in letting the Devil win his soul."

"Hush, child." The tears began anew, and Mammy fussed over Scarlett until she fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning as she fought nightmares and fever.

Her fever continued to rise during the night, and Mammy stayed by her side, replacing the over heated cloths with freshly cooled ones to try and bring down the fever.

Throughout the night, her fever did not abate. And she began to dream. She was running through a misty fog, a fog so thick, there was nothing visible, and she was searching for something, blindly groping in a darkness that was impenetrable. She stumbled as she ran across the uneven ground, her body aching in protest as she ran. She didn't know exactly what or who she was searching for, just the confidence that when she found that thing or that person, she would know. But she could feel the heat as the misty landscape around her began to burn. The darkness lightened only to reveal the brightness of flames that had erupted and were licking across the ground consuming the mist in bright bursts of fire. She could feel the heat come in waves, and she knew that unless she found what she was looking for she would never find safety. She was choking on the smoke that was curling around her. She could barely breathe, and she began gagging and coughing to expel the thickness from her lungs. She would be burned alive in this desolate blazing land. It lay heavy on her chest, as though a creature had settled upon her.

hr

Scarlett awoke with a start to find that the daylight was streaming into the room through the open curtains. The glow was not that of early morning with its pale, wan light, this was the bright harshness of midday. It came to her quickly that midday was the time where Rhett was to hang. From the shadows, she knew that it had to be past noon. He could already be dead; he probably was already dead. As his wife was she supposed to have gone and watched them hang him? The thought assaulted her, as a punch to the gut. She couldn't imagine someone so full of life and vitality snuffed out - his laughing blank and vacant. She might already be widowed a second time. She rose from the bed on unsteady legs and stumbled across the room to heave emptily into the wash basin. She hadn't eaten anything in nearly 24 hours, and there was nothing but bile to purge from her body.

She leaned against the wall to support herself, her breath coming in gasps. She trembled as her sweat-dampened nightgown clung to her body. It had passed so quickly, without anyone knowing that she had even married him, and now he was gone. For surely he would have come to find her if he had been released, or someone would have been sent with news of a reprieve. So now she would have to wait for further news. She slid down the wall and leaned her head back tiredly.

The door creaked open, and Mammy lumbered in with a tray of food. "Miss Scarlett, what you doing out of bed?" Mammy sat the tray on the nightstand and helped Scarlett up and then back into the bed. "You was running a fever all night long and were delirious. You need to eat something before you pass out." Mammy scolded gently. "And after you eat, we need to change you into some fresh night clothes."

Scarlett nodded meekly, and began spooning the broth into her mouth with trembling hands, the liquid sloshing messily from the spoon. "Mammy, let me know if you hear anything…" she stammered. "It was supposed to happen at noon." Her gaze fell to her lap, and she struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. "What time is it?" she finally asked.

"Miss Scarlett, it is two in the afternoon." Mammy fussed about the room, stealing glances at her mistress. "But I haven't heard nothing about Captain Butler."

Though the bowl was still mostly full, Scarlett set it back down. "I can't eat. I can't think about food." She explained. Mammy helped Scarlett change into a clean nightgown, and she tucked her back into the bed as Scarlett stared blankly out the window. "I'm fine, Mammy," she spoke in a softer voice than normal. "I just need a few moments by myself."

Mammy eyed her and then nodded and slipped out the door, admonishing Scarlett to eat something.

Scarlett stared out into the sunshine wondering how long it would be before she heard anything. She wondered who would tell her. Would they send a soldier with his possessions that were at the jail with him? Would they let her have his body to bury? Wade Hampton had sent Charles's body back after he had passed with several soldiers to escort the body and a personal note with his condolences, and Charlie had been laid to rest in Oakland beside his parents. That was a blessing because it was so early in the war that his body was returned. Some of the Tarleton boys' bodies were never found so they couldn't be recovered for burial. She needed to contact his lawyer, but did she need to also contact his mother and let her know. Even if he was estranged from his family, she knew that his mother would still like to know. She could only imagine Beatrice Tarleton or her own mother not knowing what had happened to their child, even their grown child. She was never going to be the best mother to Wade, but she would need to know if something had happened to him.

There was so much that would need to be planned, but she didn't even know where to start. She missed her own mother desperately in the moment, more so than usual, needing her calming, wise hand to guide her, as she had done when Charles had died. Aunt Pittypat would be no help. Perhaps Uncle Henry would be the only one that she could turn to in this situation. He could help her, but he would have to be told about the hasty marriage before he could handle anything. But without her parents, Uncle Henry seemed like the only option.

There was a knocking at the front door, soon followed by the sound of voices below, and then the rushing of lumbering feet up the stairs. Scarlett could only assume that word had finally come to inform her of her husband's death. She steeled herself to remain unemotional as Mammy passed along the news, for she recognized the heavy tread on the stairs.. And the door creaked open. "Miss Scarlett…." Mammy's voice called to her. Scarlett squinted at Mammy who stood outside the bedroom doorway, in the darkened hallway.

But then the most marvelous thing, there was a man's voice "Mammy just let me in to see her. She probably thinks I'm dead."

Scarlett turned her head with a jerk, and she stared at the doorway, transfixed.

Rhett slipped past Mammy, "Scarlett, you were right. They came through, and I was released just in time." He was dressed as she was accustomed, carefully tailored lines of fine cloth in the most current style of dress. His hair was carefully styled, and his face was smoothly shaven. "A few hours difference would have not been so kind, but I was saved by a telegram." Rhett couldn't contain his relief and the merriment in his eyes. But the brightness of his demeanor dimmed as he took in her pallor. They stared at each other, the moment suspended in time, until he finally broke the silence. "Scarlett, you were more ill than I realized. I shouldn't have made you come down to the jail to see me. You were right. I had given up, but they didn't lick me." He came into the bedroom, sweeping her into his arms, and she welcomed him with trembling limbs.

Mammy harrumphed from the doorway. "It ain't fitting, it just ain't fitting. I done told him you was sick, but no sir, Captain Butler wouldn't listen to Mammy. No sir. He just had to come up and see you hisself."

He held her closely, and she breathed in the scent of him, he had clearly found a place to bathe and shave. His hair was still slightly damp and smelled of a spicy cologne and the clean fresh scent of soap and pine. She began sobbing against his chest at the relief, and he allowed for her to sob for a while. "There, there now. You've had yourself a nice long crying jag. It's time to dry those tears." He pulled out a crisp handkerchief and wiped them away with a wry smile and a quiet chuckle, that he tried to disguise with a cough. "Now blow your nose like a good little girl."

She did as instructed but gave him a wearying look. "Now what are we going to do? We're married, and they didn't hang you." She said in confusion.

"We'll I suppose we can get an annulment, but not if I stay alone in this room with you much longer, especially in your state of undress." He eyed her enrapturedly, " though I do appreciate that you are already ready for bed, and it's the middle of the day."

"Could you try not to be a skunk or a reprobate for more than a minute at a time," she requested in annoyance, trying to smooth her rumpled hair away from her face.

"As you command, Mrs. Butler," he leered at her as he used her new name. He released her only long enough to rid himself of his jacket and then went around the bed and climbed on the space beside her, discarding his boots on the floor, and he then stretched out his long body beside her, close enough she could feel her pulse accelerating. The bed was far too small to share, let alone with a man the size of Rhett. It has been Charlie's childhood bed, and it was not meant to be shared. " It has been far too long since I was allowed a luxury like sleeping in a real bed. I promise, on my oath as a gentleman, I shall not touch you, unless you allow me to touch you," he added with a grin. "I'll try to behave. I'm glad that you let your mammy know that we married. It made accessing your bedroom much easier, though I'm not sure that your Mammy likes me much. Miss Pittypat didn't really want me in the house, but I brought her a lemon cake and some little baubles, and you know how easily she is placated with trinkets..."

"A fat lot of good is any oath that you make as a gentleman." Scarlett snorted derisively as she turned her head to watch him as he chatted casually as if he had lain beside her in a bed a thousand times before. "I didn't realize that you were as sick as you clearly have been, or I would have had someone deliver my bags here, though Aunt Pittypat might still not have come to from the shock of me being in your bedroom. It took Mammy confirming that you had confided that we had married for me to charm my way in the door and up the stairs."

Scarlett reached out a tentative hand and brushed his cleanly shaven face. "My fever finally broke less than an hour ago. When Mammy told me how late it was in the afternoon, I thought you'd been executed. I thought when you arrived that you were one of the soldiers bringing me confirmation of your death." she admitted hazily.

"Alas, they couldn't keep me, let alone hang me. I was as guilty as sin, but they couldn't prove it. My lawyer was able to get one of my Washington contacts to call them off and release me. I really wasn't sure that it would happen in time, which would have been a terrible shame." He took her hand in his and kissed it, turning on his side and angling his body towards her. "I would love to kiss you right now, but I'd rather not be feverish and chilling on our first night together. I'd rather not share your illness, if you haven't already given it to me."

Her eyes flitted up to meet his own. Noting the trepidation and fear intermingled in the green depths, he continued, "Tonight will not be the night we consummate our marriage, Scarlett. I'd rather wait until you aren't ill. Though I did manage to go and find a barber to shave me, where I could bathe and freshen up before coming to find you. I hope that didn't add any undue stress to your mind. I wanted to have a better start to our marriage than yesterday allowed."

"I'm relieved that you were spared." She smiled sheepishly at him, "and I noticed. Your face is smooth, and your hair isn't greasy." She sniffed the air, "and you no longer smell like you've been sleeping in a horse barn."

He chuckled, "I'm glad you appreciate the effort that I made. I had been sleeping in a horse barn, and I never thought you would be so ill bred as to mention it," he chuckled, and the amusement in his eyes forestalled Scarlett taking it as anything offensive. "I could smell myself, and it wasn't a pleasant experience."

He reached towards her, and she nodded. He began softly stroking her hair. "I want you to rest. But before you do, I want you to know that things are being taken care of as we speak. I still can't access most of my money, if I did the Yankees would probably try to throw me back in that cell… or stall as it may be. But I instructed someone to go to Jonesboro to pay the taxes on Tara in your name. They are on their way as we speak. If you were well, I had planned on collecting you and taking you there and surprising you after it was all said and done. But I think you need a few days of rest before we make any journeys. I'll go send a telegram to be waiting for them with further instructions since I won't be meeting them there."

"Who did you send to pay the taxes, Rhett? " she asked, though the gentle brushing of her hair was lulling her to sleep.

"Never you mind, dear. Who is doing our bidding is irrelevant." He returned artfully.

But she could see the deflection in the calmness on his face, and she refused to be placated by his dismissal. "Who was it, Rhett? Why won't you tell me?" Her grogginess was instantly gone. "Did you send Belle Watling? Did you go see Belle before you came here to find me? Is that really where your priorities lie?" Her voice rose, cracking with the sudden effort. She struggled out of the bed, away from him, trying to tug the quilt out from under her in her pique. She stumbled when the quilt refused to be pulled out from under Rhett. As she struggled to get away from him, she began coughing, nearly doubling over as the fit seized her.

At this he rose and came around the bed, taking the quilt from her hands and wrapping her with it, holding her against him and rubbing her back in slow circles until the coughing slowed. "I did go to Belle's, but only because that was the only investment that the Yankees didn't seem to be bothered with…"

She rallied and began beating furiously on his chest. "How could you?" she cried, as his arms slipped around her and supported her. He let her beat her fists against his chest ineffectually until she sagged against him, once again crying and coughing.

"I'll do everything I can to keep you from catching a cold again or becoming ill in any way. I'd imagine that you're a better nurse than you are a patient. You're not exactly in the best of moods," he teased. "I wanted to gift you Tara's security as a wedding gift, and Belle was the only way to get immediate access to enough money to do that." He crooned softly into her hair, "I wanted you to rest easy knowing that everything was taken care of. And I sent a wagon with foodstuffs and necessities to Tara. I wouldn't want to waste any time making sure that Wade was taken care of, or the rest of your family, even if that means feeding Ashley for the moment."

At this she lifted her head from his chest. "I don't care about Ashley," she protested feebly, the energy used to rage against him had drained her again.

"I know that is what you tell me, but I also am having great difficulty understanding how you could suddenly let your infatuation with him loose after so many years. It has been a constant in the time that I have known you. Pardon me for being a little slow to take it to heart." He lifted her in his arms and sat on the bed, keeping the quilt wrapped tightly around her. "You weigh nothing. Children weigh more than you." He spied the tray sitting on the nightstand, "Have you eaten anything? It looks like there is still a full bowl of broth and several slices of toast with jam."

"I couldn't stand the thought of eating. I was too worried…" she returned.

"I'm touched, my darling new bride was so concerned for my well being that she couldn't even eat." He grinned impishly, "You must be fond of me, or even more than fond of me," he teased. He then nodded and cupped the small bowl and tilted it to Scarlett, "drink up. The sooner that you get your strength back, the sooner we can go on a honeymoon."

She gave him an incredulous look, but complied, taking a long drink of the broth. "I just want to see that Tara is safe and that my family is provided for." She sighed and pushed away the bowl. "As much as I don't always enjoy Wade clinging to my skirts, I haven't ever been away from him this long. He is so timid, so much like what I remember Charles being like as a child. I don't want Suellen to poison his mind towards me. He is my flesh and blood. And I need to check on the fields and make sure that nothing has gone wrong without me there. Will is a steady hand and reliable, but he is the only one I trust to take care of things while I'm here in Atlanta. Careen and Melanie are too delicate and have never fully recovered. And Suellen is only productive at whining and complaining."

He cut her off. "I understand that you have been shouldering the responsibility of Tara for far too long, with your father unable to help much at all, but there isn't much you can do this early in the year. Everything is probably still saturated from the rain from the day before yesterday, so that you'd only be making a mess of things, sloshing around in the mud. Use this time to rest. Everything else will be taken care of."

Rhett then tried to cajole her into drinking more, but she turned away from him. "If you want to stay smelling fresh, I would suggest not trying to force me to eat right now."

At this Rhett chuckled, "All right. I'll just tuck you in and let you rest. I'll take your tray down to Mammy and let her know that you are resting." He leaned over and kissed her brow as her eyes fluttered shut. "I'll be back soon. I'm running downtown to send a telegram, and pick up a few items to make us both more comfortable. We can take a trip after you are well, and after you've seen to it that Tara is indeed safe. Marriage can be fun. Even if it doesn't seem to be starting out that way. I told you that I'd show you that it could be."